"Oh, Azziraphale the brave, Azziraphale the gallant. I'll ssspeak your deedss into the firess of hell and they will never sssatisfy." The words dragged heavy across Crowley's lips, made heavier still by the chains across his arms.
The angel, Aziraphale, whoever, did not deign to answer. His shoes snapped resolutely down the halls of heaven, leading along Crowley's cart with a miracle so expected, so unappreciated, that it could hardly be called a miracle at all.
Heaven is about purity, complete freedom from sinful nature and sinful, rebellious thoughts. For a demon to be in heaven, arms chained behind his back, unable to move off a cart steadily moving him to his demise, is an awful lot like a stain being in your kitchen. It's not sticky, it's not doing anything to bother you, but in the name of perfection you will get the bleach and burn it away, and care not for the damage to your hands, the tools you use. God, or maybe the closest proxies of God, did not care if their angelic hands burnt while cleaning the stain of demonic influence off of the earth. They simply cared that it would be clean, and they could look out and enjoy what their eyes saw.
Crowley, burning in the white of heaven, felt an emotion that demons are allowed and angels are not. Yearning. A wish for a better situation. Drive to get out of where he was and into where he wanted to be. He opened his mouth and spoke, and spoke, and pretended his eyes didn't burn from tears as well as heavenly light, as the angel Aziraphale scarcely cared to register the sound of his continued existence.
Stains in your kitchen have a common cause. They are made by you, or someone on your level. God created demons when She banished a rebellion into hell. You made a coffee stain when you decided to try to create a triple shot macchiato at three am. Your counter did not stain itself, nor did Eve create her own rules to break. But you will blame the coffee for spilling, and God will blame the hungry for eating. Aziraphale will blame the sinners for sinning, never mind the hunger in their stomach. How dare the homeless steal to survive, how dare the demons corrupt to live, after being cut off from the life energy they grew upon?
Heaven is made of absolutes. Thou shalt not steal. Not, thou shalt steal provided thou needs it to live and finds the items within the properties of one who profits off the blood of thou and others like thou, then thou shalt and it's like, cool dawg. It's 'demons are horrible and should be destroyed', not 'hey maybe let this man cry into his bad wine and good chalice and not stomp your way through innocent humans in order to biblically curb stomp someone into submission'.
But who can say the better ideology. Certainly, those with the most power are most often right? Maybe such things should be left to demons with burning wings, and not to angels holy to heaven and loyal to God.